


Cherry On Top

by gremlins-came-and-got-me (Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe – Werewolves Are Known, Bad Luck Derek Hale, Bisexual Derek Hale, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Bottom Derek, Chris Argent - Freeform, Dead Kate Argent, Hunter Chris Argent, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mechanic Stiles Stilinski, Minor Kate Argent Warning, Temporarily Human Derek Hale, The Ending Is Porn, Virgin Derek Hale, the author is sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-11 08:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12931131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark/pseuds/gremlins-came-and-got-me
Summary: Written for12 Days of Sterek 2017.Usedthisgenerator.“It looks like you’re in trouble there. Can I help?”Derek’s week has been going about as well as can be expected when one’s been displaced because of flooding and fire, been nearly sacrificed by a secret cult, rescued another sacrifice, and lost one’s werewolfy-ness in the ensuing chaos. And now his car won’t start and there’s a hunter staring him down.Great.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: brief rape/non-con situation, cult sacrifices, character death

\--

Derek wanted to cry.

His week started shitty and had just gone downhill.

First, his apartment flooded when the family above his unit had left their bathtub on overnight. Then, the hotel his landlord put him in had a small electrical fire. It hadn’t been Derek’s fault, but since he was the only one on the floor at the time, he was blamed for it.

Of course, he’d received a call from his work as a supernatural fixer that sent him out to the ass-end of the preserve searching for a homicidal cult intent on sacrificing seven virgins—one of which ended up being Derek too. Just his luck.

One good point in his week was he’d managed to save the last victim and himself before anything too drastic could have been done to them.

In fact, the only thing that had happened after their clothes had been burned off was that the purple wolfsbane the cult was using as a psychedelic had sapped his werewolf strength, leaving him feeling very mortal.

On top of everything else, now his car wouldn’t start.

Derek had it maintained regularly. This should not be happening. He cranked the key in the ignition again, letting out a frustrated groan as it turned over but didn’t catch. He sighed, slamming his head against the steering wheel. Big mistake. He was essentially human, which meant smacking himself like that hurt like a motherfucker and continued to hurt long after it should have stopped.

He stumbled out of the car, reaching back in to pop the hood. Not that he knew anything about engine repair. There was a reason he was a lifetime member of _Stilinski’s Garage_ in downtown Beacon Hills.

And, no, it wasn’t because of the cute, nice, totally devastatingly straight mechanic who always made time for Derek when he saw him outside. Stiles, the positive-adjective-laden mechanic, was even starting to teach him some simple maintenance things, like changing his oil, replacing minor parts, rotating tires, and stocking his roadside kit.

Derek sighed again. To him, the engine looked okay. Nothing was loose or disconnected. His fluid levels looked fine. The oil was decent when he pulled out the dipstick, wiping it off and reinserting it to check it a second time. Stiles would be so proud.

Because he forgot that he was human, Derek didn’t hear the car until it was almost on top of him, and he jerked upright, dipstick held out like a flimsy sword.

Of course, when he was at his most vulnerable the hunters would converge.

Derek bared his teeth, growling at the red Chevy Tahoe. Chris Argent. Not the worst Argent Derek had ever encountered.

Two months ago, he’d met Kate, Chris’ sister. Derek’s chest still stung where she had smeared him with a wolfsbane concoction meant to incapacitate him while she fucked him stupid and then slit his throat. Only they hadn’t gotten to anything—not that Derek wanted to anyway—because Derek’s uncle had stopped by to check on him and had ended up liberating Kate’s head from her body. He’d fixed Derek with a disappointed look and dragged Kate’s body off.

Ever since, Chris had been dogging Derek’s steps, trying to catch him in a lie. He must be getting infuriated, especially since, when he did manage to corner Derek, all he had to do was flash his beta-yellow eyes and Chris had to back off thanks to his Code.

Now, though, Derek had noticed his eyes wouldn’t change anymore. He couldn’t prove he wasn’t a murderer or an alpha right now. Chris would probably take the opportunity to shoot him. If Chris was anything like Kate, it wouldn’t be quick or kind.

Derek didn’t want to be tortured. He wanted to go back to his apartment, do his crossword puzzle, and plan another not-happening-anytime-soon date with Stiles-the-mechanic.

Chris parked dangerously close to Derek’s calf, grinning through the windshield like some demented meat puppet.

Derek stifled a desperate laugh, and held out the dipstick so that he could poke the emblem on the grill of Chris’ vehicle.

“Derek, how nice to see you again,” Chris said. He stepped out of his vehicle, grace that Derek couldn’t emulate with his not-werewolf body. Standing still was his only defense right now. If he made a move, he was just as liable to trip over his own feet and give Chris the upper hand.

“I’d say the same to you,” Derek frowned at Chris, “but I’d be lying.”

Chris laughed, exaggerating the motion of throwing his head back so he could chuckle at the sky. Derek briefly glanced up to see if Chris was signaling someone, but no. The surrounding rooftops were empty.

Derek cursed his inability to hear heartbeats. That would have given away any hunters immediately.

Chris followed his gaze. “No, surprisingly, I’m all alone this time,” he said. “The perfect opportunity, wouldn’t you agree?”

No, Derek wouldn’t ever agree to anything a hunter said. He glared at Chris to convey this point.

Chris seemed unperturbed, moving around his vehicle to study Derek’s engine. He eyed the dipstick in distaste.

“Best to put that away before you accidentally injure yourself, okay?”

Derek scowled, tightening his grip on the plastic ring. If Chris seemed surprised that it didn’t immediately shatter, he didn’t show it, and Derek cursed his tells. At this rate, Chris would know that a regular bullet would end Derek without any trouble.

“Hmm, know what the problem is yet?”

With absolute certainty, Derek could say there was something wrong, but he knew Chris knew he couldn’t pinpoint it. He wouldn’t be standing here holding his dipstick if he knew what exactly Chris had done to disable his engine.

Hell, he wouldn’t put it past Chris to have flooded his apartment or started the fire. In fact, the only thing he couldn’t blame Chris for was the cult in the preserve.

“I’m working on it,” Derek said through clenched teeth. Chris smiled, a little more genuine this time.

“You know the drill,” he said. “Show me your real eyes.”

Derek pointed at his face. “These are my real eyes,” he snapped. “Just because I am a werewolf it doesn’t mean that my human side isn’t just as much me.”

“Poetic,” Chris laughed. Suddenly, he had a gun pressed to Derek’s ribs. The dipstick was bowed where the tip was pressed into Chris’ chest. He swatted it away, annoyed.

Derek fumbled the dipstick back into the engine, trying not to show just how scared he was to have the barrel dig into his side.

“Show. Me. Your. Eyes.”

“No.” Derek paused as the gun crawled up his side before it slammed into his pectoral, right above his heart. “Isn’t it against your Code to hunt a werewolf you can’t prove has hurt someone?”

“You think you haven’t hurt someone?” Chris hissed. “What about that girl in the woods?”

“Which one?” Derek asked. “There were three.” Three women, three men, and one werewolf. All virgins. Only two still alive: Derek and the one he’d managed to save.

“The traumatized one,” Chris said.

The one who was still alive. Derek had maybe scratched her a little when he was tearing her restraints off. He shrugged, choking on a breath as the gun left his chest and raised to his forehead.

Again, his human-ears betrayed him, because someone shouted, “It looks like you’re in trouble there. Can I help?” and startled both Chris and him badly enough that Chris almost dropped his gun before he managed to hide it in the waistband of his pants.

Derek turned to his hero, sagging in relief when he saw that it was Stiles.

Stiles looked odd without his blue, grease-stained uniform and the splotches of grime smeared over his face almost as liberally as the beauty marks.

He was wearing a red flannel button up open over a black t-shirt, faded black jeans, and Converse sneakers.

And his eyes. Oh, his eyes.

If fluorescent lighting washed out the honey-brown of them, the natural daylight made them sparkle. Derek lamented the fact that he’d only heard Stiles talk of his many female conquests. What he wouldn’t give to see the expression on Stiles’ face when Derek kissed him.

“Stilinski,” Chris said, an undertone of grudging respect coloring his voice.

“Argent,” Stiles said back, no respect whatsoever. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Derek’s battery is dead, and I was just offering him a jump.”

“Oh, I saw you jumping him all right,” Stiles muttered. He grinned at the way the color drained from Chris’ face. “Shall I call my dad? Have him escort this fine, upstanding gentleman back to my garage where I can examine his battery instead of threatening his life?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Chris stuttered. “I was just—”

“Just holding a gun to his head,” Stiles finished coldly. “I hope you realize that I know what you are.”

Chris’ expression cleared and he pulled out his gun again. “Then you know what he is and how dangerous he is.”

Stiles laughed, a more genuine sound than anything Chris could create. “Yeah, I know what he is and just how dangerous he is. Look at me, I’m not mauled. Look at your sister. She’s dead.”

“How do you know about Kate?” Chris pointed his gun at Stiles. Derek’s heart flipped in his chest, and before he knew it, he shoved Chris out from between the vehicles and stood in front of him, blocking his shot. “What do you know about Kate?”

Stiles glanced at Derek before quickly looking away. Derek strained his ears, but it was no use. He was still human. He couldn’t hear Stiles’ heartbeat or smell any chemosignals. “I know enough,” he said quietly.

“What do you know?!”

Stiles sighed. “She was unhinged. And maybe she didn’t deserve to be buried in an unmarked grave, but she certainly didn’t deserve much better.”

“Who killed her?” Chris shook his gun in Derek’s face, more of a get-out-of-my-way gesture than anything threatening. “Who killed my sister?”

Stiles looked at Derek again before turning back to Chris. “Peter Hale did,” he said. “And no, you can’t go hunt him. He was tried and found not guilty by reason of defense of another.”

“Defense of whom?” Chris asked. From the way he stared at Derek when he spoke, it appeared he already knew.

“Me,” Derek said. “She was assaulting me. My uncle stopped her.”

“By killing her?”

“It was the only way. She had wolfsbane.”

Chris lowered his gun. “She was my sister,” he said, heartbroken.

“She was a hunter,” Stiles said. “So are you. It doesn’t give you a blanket excuse to stalk and assault werewolves. The werewolves don’t stalk you. They don’t even stalk the people they like.”

Derek turned around, staring at Stiles in horror. He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious. Stiles winked at him, a small smirk curling half of his mouth.

“Where is my sister buried?” Chris asked, holstering his gun. “You may not think she deserves to be buried properly, but she’s my sister. It’s my decision.”

“True.” Stiles snapped his fingers. “It’s marked on the map in your glove box. Godspeed, Chris Argent, but God help you if I ever catch you around any of the Hales ever again. I’ll put you in the same box as your sister. Am I clear?”

Chris didn’t bother to answer, climbing into his Tahoe and speeding away.

Derek didn’t let out his sigh of relief until the dust kicked up by Chris’ tires finally settled.

Stiles watched him, concern twisting his features.

“I’m fine,” Derek said to his unasked question, and then asked one of his own, “How did I not know you were a mage?”

Stiles shrugged. “It was decided that unless you asked, I wouldn’t tell. Werewolves and magic don’t get along. Too much history.”

Derek shuddered, remembering the cult and his missing werewolf power. “Am I stuck like this forever?” he asked Stiles.

“Like what? Human?” Stiles wet his lips with his tongue, studying Derek in a way that made him feel undressed and caressed all at once. “No,” Stiles finally said. “The affliction should last for another week or so.”

A week and a half as a human, maybe longer. Derek stared down at his body in dismay. He could barely walk and he couldn’t do something as simple as expressing his frustration without injuring himself. He was a disaster and he would be lucky if his life improved even slightly now that Chris had been warned off.

“You’re always welcome to come stay with me,” Stiles offered.

“What?”

Stiles blushed, scratching at the back of his head. “You like me, and I like you. And I know you don’t have a place to stay right now.”

Derek was stuck on Stiles’ words. Stiles liked him? Since when? “But you’re straight,” he blurted, wincing at the bluntness.

Stiles glared at him. “I’m not. What gave you that impression?”

“All those one-night stands,” Derek said, waving a hand, digging his hole deeper with every syllable and gesture. “Every time I saw you, you had some other name on your lips, some other story of just how good it was.” He scuffed his shoe over the ground. “It just made me more aware that I didn’t have that.”

“Have what?” Stiles rooted around in Derek’s engine. Probably so that he wouldn’t have to look at Derek’s stupid, assuming face.

“Experience,” Derek said quietly.

Stiles froze, hand on something important—but since it was inside the engine, it was all important, right?—“Experience?” he choked out. “You don’t have…”

“Experience,” Derek repeated.

“None?”

He shook his head. “That’s what Kate was doing when Peter killed her. She was trying to—”

“I know what Kate was doing,” Stiles said quickly, ducking back under the hood. “Who do you think alerted Peter?”

Now it was Derek’s turn to pause. “You stopped Kate?” he asked, swallowing thickly. “But, why? How did you know?”

Stiles shut the hood, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Like I said, I’m attracted to you and you’re attracted to me. I knew you were interested in me, but I thought I needed to impress you, hence why I would boast in a way that I knew you’d take it wrong.” He spread his hands. “I’m a mage, Derek, I help people for a living. Just because it sounds like a more physical activity, it doesn’t mean that’s what I was doing.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek said.

 “For what?”

“For assuming that you were straight because of what you said. And I’m sorry for letting Kate—”

“Hey, no, that’s not your fault. Kate attacking you is solely on her. I’m sorry for being a douche bag about my attraction.” Stiles wiped his hands again even though there wasn’t anything on them. A nervous tick maybe?

“So we’re both sorry,” Derek said. “What do we do now?”

“Well, one, you stay away from Chris Argent and any other hunter that manages to stumble into town. And two, you stay away from the cult in the back of the preserve. Every so often they like to sacrifice virgins to ensure a bumper crop. Of course, it never works, and we usually stop them in time.”

“Not this time,” Derek said. “They got five people.”

“Shit, seriously? That’s…Jesus, I’m sorry.” Stiles pulled out his phone and tapped a message out. “Okay, well, I’m truly sorry about that. As long as we stopped their murders, they were okay. But, hey, you break a moral code, and you gotta go.”

Derek frowned. “Go? The way of Kate?”

Stiles clicked his tongue. “Exactly.” He sighed, sobering quickly. “I’m so sorry. We’ve been discussing moving them along but we didn’t want to unleash them on another unsuspecting town.”

“Is it common?” Derek asked. “To have a virgin-sacrificing cult living in the preserve?”

“Probably. Beacon Hills is aptly named.”

Derek hummed. “Maybe you should make sure that they won’t take me again,” he said. Stiles spluttered, choking on air.

“What?” he coughed weakly. “What did you just say?”

“If the cult manages to survive whatever you just unleashed on them, then they’ll definitely need their sacrifices. Their _virgin_ sacrifices. If you want to keep me out of danger, you’d better make sure I’m not a virgin soon.”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment before he said, “Follow me,” and climbed into a powder blue Jeep parked behind Derek’s Camaro.

Derek allowed himself a victory grin before he climbed into his car and cranked the engine. He’d never doubted that Stiles could fix what was wrong, and he wasn’t disappointed as his car roared to life.

\--

After they reached Stiles’ apartment, they discussed several things, mostly positions and agreements. Stiles offered to let Derek penetrate him, but since Derek had absolutely no experience with either, he opted to let Stiles take the lead.

Stiles warmed the lube in his hands for a moment before kneeling behind Derek and using a finger to circle his hole. Derek flinched at the first touch, unfamiliar and still a little cold.

“Ready?” Stiles said, patting at Derek’s side. He waited for Derek to nod before he pressed the tip of a finger against the furl of Derek’s body.

He wriggled it until it slid in, and Derek hunched forward, gasping at the sensation.

“Good? Bad?” Stiles asked, stilling. Derek shook his head. He didn’t know what it felt like but he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Go slow?” he asked, and Stiles pressed a kiss to his hip.

“Always, babe.”

The endearment soothed Derek as much as Stiles’ finger pulling back, more lube dripping down onto it. Then, slowly, Stiles pressed forward again, pausing with the tip inside. He rotated it, spreading the lube.

Derek shook his head. “No, no. I don’t like it,” he said. “Can we stop?”

Stiles pulled back. “Yeah. Totally. Do you want to stop all sex or did you want me to bottom?”

Derek thought about that. If his inexperience with bottoming was making this as bad for Stiles as it was for him, then what would his inexperience with topping do?

“No, just, can we try a different position?”

“Sure,” Stiles said, “but like I said before we started, this position is the most comfortable for you.”

Derek sighed. Stiles patted his shoulder.

“It’s okay if we don’t do anything tonight. We can work our way up to it.”

“I wanted to,” Derek said sadly. “You can’t tell me you’re not disappointed.”

“I’m not disappointed in you, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Stiles said. “In fact, I’m not disappointed at all. Everyone has their own pace. Forcing yourself to go faster helps no one.”

“Okay,” Derek agreed.

They didn’t end up having sex that day, but they practiced fingering every night until Derek was able to accommodate three of Stiles’ long fingers. Then, they moved on to penetration with cocks.

By the time they’d been dating for a month, Derek was able to take Stiles to the root and enjoy it. And Stiles quite enjoyed being able to lay over Derek’s back or kneel with Derek’s legs over his hips.

The only disappointment Derek felt was that he was still human. He hadn’t regained his werewolf powers yet despite Stiles’ assurances that he wasn’t exactly human.

They often spent the night tangled together, progressing quickly from reading or watching television to fucking wildly.

One such night, Derek was on his knees, Stiles behind him.

“Stiles, Stiles, Stiles,” Derek panted, clenching against the drag of Stiles’ cock inside him. He shifted, so that he could rise up to meet Stiles’ thrusts, rocking faster. “There,” he sighed, as the head of Stiles’ cock slid past his prostate. “Right there, yeah.”

Stiles made sure to rub across it every second stroke, using one hand to brace against Derek’s hip while the other snaked under to grip Derek’s cock. He squeezed gently, rhythmically, drawing Derek’s orgasm out of him.

 As soon as he felt it, Derek hunched over, whimpering at the pleasure he felt sparking along his spine, pooling in his belly. He threw his head back, roaring loudly as Stiles shifted, chasing his own orgasm.

When Derek came back from the rush of endorphins, he found he was still rocking with Stiles’ still-hard cock in him. He reached behind, touching where they were connected and recoiling a little when he felt the swell of his asshole wrapped around Stiles’ cock.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Stiles said, running his hands up and down Derek’s sides. “That was wonderful. Oh, Jeez, I think my brain might be melting. God, that was good.”

Derek shifted forward experimentally. Stiles’ cock tugged inside and it set off a smaller, no less intense orgasm that had him curling away, gasping as his cock jerked and a little semen dribbled out.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. Just, relax a little, we’re almost done.” Stiles reached around and jerked Derek off, using his ejaculate to make it less rough. “There, there. Go ahead, roar again, show me your eyes, snap your teeth. Shift, Derek! Shift!”

Derek paused. Shift? He ran his tongue over the sharp edges of his teeth. His fangs. He had fangs! He had his powers again!

And then he came all over Stiles’ hand, whining high in his throat at the overstimulation. Stiles jerked him through it and then thrust into his ass at the same time, coming deep inside him and letting out a satiated groan.

Derek wriggled free, turning so that he could wrap his arms around Stiles. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Told you, you weren’t stuck as a human forever.” Stiles yawned.

“I know you did,” Derek said. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you too, now sleep. We’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

Derek lifted Stiles’ arm, curling under it, and rolling over until he could press his ass back against Stiles’ crotch. He liked being the little spoon, and Stiles liked it too. It felt safe and warm and more than loving, especially when he realized he could feel and hear Stiles’ heart beating in his chest.

He fell asleep listening to it.

~ Fin ~


	2. Cover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my blocky style again. Also posted at [my Tumblr](https://1989dreamer.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry for the bad porn that ends this story. I really don't write smut often (or well) but I had the idea for Derek's orgasms to unlock his abilities/powers.
> 
> Thank you to all who read it, and thanks to those brave enough to comment.


End file.
